Rose of suicide

Rose of suicide

I sang all night, the night I cried,

I cried whole night, the night I died.

As I woke up, I could see my own body,

It felt little giddy, it felt real shoddy.

I went up and down, I went here and there,

I found myself hanging, in the soaking thin air.

I saw no long tunnel, I saw no bright light,

I ventured in the air like the freshly cut kite.

Then I saw a lake, a green fake lake,

Was it real lake or a cake angels bake?

I saw little angel, like a soft puppy,

Her eyes were slim, her lips were sloppy

Her wings where white, here eyes were green,

She was the cute fairy of my quintessential dream.

We saw the pink sun, we saw the grey showers,

On the bank of the lake we talked for hours.

“You hear the bells toll, you hear the black crow,

It’s been a long time, you must now go.”

“Take this red rose”, her sweet words said,

“Smell, this and I’ll come to you, if you feel sad”

She took me to a cliff, and shoved me down,

I crashed on my head, but I woke up in my bed.

No it wasn’t me, I wasn’t any dead.

It was my cute and lovely dream, which died instead.

I felt so lonely, so teary so low,

And so as I felt that, I had never felt so.

I took a decision, I picked the sharp knife,

To meet her again, I ended my life.

And then I started singing, I hummed all night,

The night I cried, was the night I died.

Suicides Have No Coffin...

A bullet through his head...thats how it all ended...

Puncturing the cranium , Lacerating the meninges and grey matter....finally disintegrating 'her memories' from the core of his hippocampus .... 

His story is simple and uncomplicated...

He loved her... She didn't ....He stalked her ... She humiliated him.... He was crushed ... He found solace in his pistol....

Alone in the dark ... he woke up... feeling cold and wretched... separated from his anatomy... but still married to the memories of her... He thought he had fenced off her memories by putting his heart to rest... but now he is more merged with her memories than ever being amalgamated with his soul... he couldn't free himself of the pain in his heart... he smiled... does he still have one ?? 

He wandered hopelessly on all the streets of his dear little town....crossed states... crossed borders... trying to find his portal to hell...

Time passed....

He ran-out of streets to wander... finally found his way home... he was still muddled with thoughts of her... he knew he must face her... to absolve himself of her thoughts... 

He reached the street , he liked the most... her home in it... where in the park bench , once he always sat , waiting to see her face... waiting for yet another humiliation... during his mortal days...

Gates and doors couldn't stop him now... he reached her room... 

There lay his angel... still strikingly beautiful and pale... naked and safely confined in another man's arms... He never has had such a rush of pain and anger even during his mortal days , even when she rejected him , even when she humiliated him... as if the inner core of his soul was burning... He couldn't take it anymore...

He gave a deafening cry... and with his cold , stabbing hand... pierced her pale torso and squeezed the heart which he once loved so dearly... 

PS - Hope its good ... :-)

Ciao,

Arun Kumar - My life - As I know it

Mistake: A scary reason

~1~

It was a hard fight. Once more. They have been married for two years now and Alex could not remember a single day when they did not fight. Every time they fight, it would end up in a quarrel and they would not talk for hour or even days! They fought again today. It was grave this time. Julie cursed him as much as she could and locked herself in the other room. She threatened to commit suicide, but Alex knew she would not dare to do so. She would come out in some time and everything will be in place. However, it was almost an hour that she has locked herself and has not uttered a single word since. It was scary, but he knew she would come back. He tried to think about the good times they spent together. The honeymoon in Geneva; the trip to Paris, a year ago; the last Christmas! Those were dream time.

He made himself a peg of scotch. He opened the bottle last week when Joanna and George paid them a visit. Alex liked the bottle more because of the long neck. It feels like long legs of the ladies he use to date – smooth and flawless! He took the first sip. It was awesome. The smell itself is worth the money he spent to buy the bottle. Julie liked it that time. He was missing her all right, but never would he go and call her. Why should he? It was not his fault today. He could not see the ego taking over his love for her.

He finished the bottle and puffed the last cigarette he had. The clock ticked two. What? It was 2 o’clock! And Julie was still locked inside her room! He unlocked his door and walked to her door.

“Julie.” There was no response. Probably she was asleep.

“Julie.” He called her loudly. There was no response still. He called a few more times, but nobody answered. He was anxious for a moment. He tried to look in through the keyhole. The sight inside was blurry, but it was clear that there was a mishap. Julie was lying on her bed and her limbs were swinging outside, as if she was falling down from the bed.

Alex shouted, “Julie. Don’t you dare play any prank on me! Come out, you moron. It’s too late now. I’m hungry.” There was still, no response.

Alex was worried now. He banged the door a couple of times and the latches gave away. He broke in and ran to her and perched by her side. She was lying still. A white froth came out of her mouth. Alex checked her breath and her nerves, but could not find any. She was no more! He stood up in fright. There was a piece of paper on the bed with the following scribbled in:

“Al, my love, I’m leaving you. I’m going to some place where I can be happy and I need not answer to your filthy questions. Our marriage is dead. By the time you read this, you will realize that I’m dead too. I never mistook you for any wrong reasons and I’ve given you all the proofs you wanted to prove my sanity. We have spent all dreadful time together. I thought everything will be all right; but you never cared for my sacrifices and you were always a coward to admit those. I have nowhere else to go, apart from where I’m leaving to. I know you will not be sad and I hold you solely responsible for my act. Goodbye, Al!”

He was afraid now. He could not move; neither could he stand up. He was shivering – more in fear; less in sorrow. Suicide – police – court – judge – sentence – jail! All ran through his mind in a single moment. He probably could hear the siren of a patrolling police car. His face went pallid. He accumulated all his strength and stood up. He looked back at her for once and ran out of the room. He banged his door behind him and threw himself on his bed.

~2~

After a few minutes, Alex opened his eyes.

Oh! What a dream! Was it? No! His door was open and the dead face of his wife was so very vivid to him; it cannot be a dream. He looked around carefully; her door was closed, his hands were still shivering and his heart beating faster, as if he has came running there. It is so real; it can be, but a dream! His wife was dead. And he was responsible for it. It was a suicide and the suicide note clearly mentions that he was accountable for it. Now, there will be police in his house in no time. He cannot escape the long hands of the law and soon he will be trialed and sentenced, probably with a capital punishment for inducing Julie to kill herself. Everyone in the society will know about it and everyone in Illinois will know once the news gets published in the morning paper. His friends, his colleagues and his long forgotten family members will come to know very soon and will spit at him. He almost cured his bad impression, but now, nobody will listen to him and nobody will spare him. None will be interested to listen to his reasons and all will abandon him. There will be no life, even if the jury spares him. There will be no Alex Graham Fox anymore.

Blood was all over his mind – the heart was beating fastest – the head was spinning; probably because of the alcohol inside, and more so with the fear of losing everything. He looked at the empty bottle of scotch. It was lying on the table. It allured him, somehow. He left the bed and held the bottle by its long neck and hit it on the brink of the table. There was a clatter of glass pieces flying around him and hitting the marble floor. The sharp edges of the broken bottle were chilling to look at.

Blood jetted out of his wrist, as he slit it with the broken bottle in his hand. Within a few seconds there was a pool of blood around him. He stared at his severed wrist. The veins were open and the blood streamed out like dammed water out of a sluice gate. As time passed, he felt weaker and hapless. He held his arm with the other hand and sat there in the puddle of blood. Alex could never know when his eyes closed and when he fell unconscious. But seconds before he lost vision, he could see in the wall clock. The time was exactly 1 o’clock! He instantly realized everything, but could not react before falling out cold.

~3~

The wall clock timed 2 AM. The distant church bells rang twice.

The other door knob rotated and the door flung open. Julie came out of her room. Her eyes were already pink; having cried for long hours now. She was feeling hungry too and knew Alex would feel the same. She thought that they can talk over the dinner and settle things, like always. She wanted to forgive Alex for every mistake of his – once more. She was certain to be able to resolve this issue and move on. She came near his door and peeped inside. The sight was bloodcurdling!

“Al, my dear!” she screamed and ran to him. She took his head and put it on her lap and burst into tears. She anticipated nothing of this sort and she was almost broken. The body of her husband lied in front of her, almost lifeless.

~4~

It was 5 AM now or the wall clock in the St. Joseph’s nursing home was running slow. Julie sat in one of the benches near the Operation Theatre, holding her head with both her hands. The hands were still stained in blood. She wished not to look back at the world again. She held herself guilty for all the tragedy that was brought into her life in the last few hours. She just wanted to die.

“Mrs. Fox, he is out of danger now. You can meet him in some time, once the nurses finish up.” The doctor said calmly, coming out of the Operation Theatre and wiping his hands. She looked up, for the first time in some time. Her eyes found a reason to glitter again. She wanted to thank the doctor, but then she almost lost the strength to speak.

“By the way, Mrs. Fox,” the doctor added, “Inspector Smith wants to see you for a moment. He is waiting at the reception downstairs. Take care of yourself.”

Her voice was sinking. She needed attention herself; but the thought of getting her husband back was strong enough to hold her upright. She was worried that the police will interrogate her, but then she was stronger now than ever before.

“Thanks doctor,” said Julie.
..............................................................................................................

Also Posted in My Blog @ Thus Wrote Tan!
I post it here for all those who have not read it in my blog as yet. Hope you enjoy reading this, as much as I enjoyed writing it for the various prompts :)